The star burns although it says goodbye while the wind sneaks through cotton wool. Musical notes accompany in the distance. It takes skins, disharmonies and remains of so many and why not, of me. It reserves in the booty the dream without remitting.
Clear as platinum the river, as its blue aura burns in demonstrations.
Simple as the licking of grateful Milu, as every gesture of love, as Blanca coming out of her last hemotherapy or as the look of my neighbor twinkling because we liked his version of the roasted delicacy.
That's how clear is the simple. No twists and turns. Everything in sight like Nube's gaze, a veteran in a timeless face. The circle does not know where it begins and ends, just as the sweetness of its sound does not know.
Thus is kept the breath that bids farewell to this stay and the cry that announces the arrival of another miracle of love.
The sunlight burns in your iris, and it fills with vision without them. As the sun continues to burn even yawning. Sharp as Fiore's play with her pajama-clad cat, sits her, as she hammocks standing singing to her.
Just as the orange tree dances to the couple, fluttering its wings in courtship. Like adolescent couples on their first dates, in front of the sea, laughing while their hairs drive their hormones as crazy as their hairs.
Thus walk humans with their dogs, while the friend burns in the east, shining imperturbable, while a star is born and another is immortalized at the other end. As love burns when it lights a candle or extinguishes itself or sets it ablaze in its own fire. Sharp as all that is simple, rising who knows tomorrow, in what chimera.